3 Floyds Zombie Dust

Last time the Zombie Dust passed through town I only took in a small amount. It intrigued me, but I didn’t understand the fuss. While others, who had received more, seemed to be transfixed by it, I went about my life as normal. Apparently the small dose I had wasn’t enough to truly work on me.

Here I am now, almost exactly 11 months later. I have unknowingly been recruited. I’ve been offered a free full sample, by a well meaning friend. He is opposed to hops and therefore the Zombie Dust. I assume that a mere 12 oz bottle won’t be enough to make me a member of the Zombie Dust horde, the loyal followers. Little do I know the transforming power that resides within a bottle. My friend’s generous, innocent, gift was prompted not of his accord but by the motive lurking within the brew.

The aroma of the beer is incredibly enticing, citrusy and yet also more. I can’t quite place the fullness of the nose. I take a drink, my first step in. A harsh bombardment upon my palate, as though thousands of microscopic zombies are clawing at my tongue. The spice bite is fun though. I was prepared for a hop burst, even if my palate is concerned about where things are headed. It is quite hoppy for a mere American Pale Ale. I’ve encountered IPAs with less hop presence.

I keep drinking. About halfway through the bite eases up and I start to notice a tart grapefruit flavor. Not bad, but not great. So far I’m still under-impressed. Yes, the beer is very solid, but not living up to the hype. Why do so many people become fanatical about this brew? I set the glass down and begin to ponder. My mind begins to drift…tangents here…visual stimuli there…I have become distracted.

I regain my focus to see that I’m bringing a glass only 1/3rd full to my waiting lips. Have I been drinking this Zombie Dust without or even against my conscious awareness? Though this slightly disturbs me, I take another sip. It is much different from the last one I remember. I can pick up on melon notes intertwined with hints of lime. I want to say there lurks nuances of passionfruit and gooseberry, but I have never seen let alone tasted these fruits. Where is all this coming from?

Again I continue drinking, the desire for this now delicious concoction is overwhelming. No bite is present anymore just delectable tropical fruit flavors. I no longer fear, but am strangely calm in the awareness that the Zombie Dust has fully infiltrated my being. It is turning me. Has turned me. All I want is another glass, and then another after that. What will I crave next? The Zombie Dust has taken hold of me, I am a loyal follower. Be weary beer drinkers. How long until you are next?

And as the Sheriff in Night of the Living Dead said when the Radio Reporter asked him “Well Sheriff, what do you have to say about these Zombies?” the Sheriff replied: “There dead, there all messed up.” I guess since we can’t get the beer in Texas “it all messed up”.